Mending Fabric Rent By Death
by Mookie Riffic
Summary: postRent, Mimi's dead, Mark's dead. Shhhiiiit. CollinsRoger slash. Chapter 14 up! Almost complete
1. Theres a Rent In The Fabric

Chapter 1: Theres A Rent in the Fabric

"May she find peace,

May her love joing her in his own time,

May she forever be remembered.

Mimi Marquez

Beloved friend and lover,

Died: Easter 2003"

Mark was still in the hospital in a coma, but it was a doctor induced coma. He would wake up once he was healed enough that he wouldn't inadvertly injure himself more. Mimi had died with in a week of the fateful mugging. Everyone agreed, through the tears, that Mimi's death was ironic, for it wasn't AIDS that killed her, it was a head injury which meant she would never wake up, given by two muggers. The same two muggers also had injured Mark, but not nearly as bad. The only solace that could be found was that since they had raped Mimi they would probably have AIDS. Maybe they would repent?

Marks condition was stable, the doctor told them he could go home by the end of the month. Maureen and Joanne were footing the bill, and caring for Mark until he was fully recovered, so Mark wouldn't be staying at the loft for a while.

Roger, as execpected was a nightmare, and had nightmares. No one wanted him alone up in that loft, but he refused to leave it, and Maureen and Joanne couldn't move up there with him. They thought of Benny, but decided that was a bad idea when Roger attacked him when he saw him by Mimi's hospital bed. Roger blamed Benny for everything, he blamed Benny for sending him on a buisness trip out of town, he blamed Benny for everything, despite the fact that Benny paid for the full funeral and all the hospital bills for both Mimi and Mark. Benny was out of the question.

Who could stay with Roger? Who could watch Roger to make sure he didn't do anything stupid, like smack or suicide? Who had the strength to over power Roger physicially if all else failed? Normally Mark took care of Roger, for though Mark was smaller and Roger could easily bowl him over, Mark had a phsycological hold over him, but since none of the others had it, they wanted brute strength.

It was pure chance that Collins came sweeping into the loft one afternoon, not but a week after Mimi. He was humming chipperly, oblivious to the aghast stares of all his friends. He didn't realize what was wrong until after he shouted a big Hello. When they told him the change in him was visable. He seemed to age ten years instantly, but Collins was practical. He immediatly saw the Roger dilema and put his duffel bag into Marks room, it was where he was going to stay.

Roger of course, hadn't been in the room when Collins had been told, for Roger had locked himself in his room, as was normal when there was something he couldn't or didn't want to deal with.

The Bohemians wern't a happy bunch, but they couldn't exactly label themselves unhappy or broken. They all still had each other. They all still had their hopes and dreams. While they were one less, and there forever would be a rent in the fabric of their group, over time it would heal, smooth over. It happened with Angel, they never moved past it, but they were able to deal with the loss and keep living, for Angel. They would do the same for Mimi. She would never be forgotten, how could they when every day they would know she wasn't with the group where she rightfully belonged? But they would learn to remember her good traits, her sense of style, her bright personality, and everything that made them all love her in the first place. They would live. How long they didn't know, but they would live.


	2. Words to Smile At

Chapter 2 - Words to Smile At 

It was Five weeks after Mimi's death, and still Roger didn't come out of his room. By that time Joanne and Maureen were less frequent visitors to the loft, their time taken up with earning food money, Rent was forgiven until after Mark was well and back in the loft, and caring for Mark. It wasn't easy for he had physical therapy every other afternoon, and taking him via subway wasn't exactly easy.

Collins had a steady routine now, everyday he would leave the apartment for precisely and hour, during which Roger would leave his room to grab the breakfast that Collins laid out and to shower. Upon Collins' return he would lay on the couch, which was now moved directly in front of Rogers door, and read or write until 5 when one of the girls would bring up dinner. Collins would again disappear for an hour before eating his own dinner.

Inside Rogers room his mood varied. Most times it was silent, and Collins should know because he was in front of the door almost 24-7. Sometimes in Roger's room though there could be heard large crashes, as books and other items were thrown about in grief. Sometimes he would howl, and Collins would wonder for his sanity, but no matter, Collins would wait it out. Roger never actually spoke anything, but Collins knew what was best to do, for he remembered when Angel died.

"Oh Angel..." It was said out loud by Collins at least a 100 times a day, there was always something that would remind him of her, whether it was seeing a table that Angel had danced on, a red coat that reminded him of her Santa outfit, or just someones carefreeness and caring for others. Collins loved her with all his heart, there wasn't anything he wouldn't have done for her, including die. But Angel had made that clear right away at the end that she didn't want him to die for her, no she wanted him to live as long as possible, to love others and help them as much as possible, and to remember her. It was impossible for him to forget her.

At the beginning Collins thought of Roger as a way to help others as Angel would have wanted, but it changed into something more. The more he heard Roger's own grief, never expressed by his music, the more genuine compassion and connection he felt with the musician. For though they had never exactly been close, they both had had, and lost, the type of love that most people only dream of. Collins knew he was lucky and was glad he was strong enough to handle his Love's death; but was Roger? He didn't know.

The first actual communication between the two of them happened after the sixth week, at midnight. Collins was sleeping on the couch, closer to dozing then actually sleep, when he heard Roger open the door. He carefully watched Roger underneath his hooded eyes as Roger made his way to the bathroom. Watched as Roger went in and locked the door. It was when the lock clicked that Collins sat up, fearful for him, and carefully walked up and placed his ear on the door. He could hear Roger sobbing, something that hadn't been done before now, and he heard a lot of crashing. Before it fell silent. Scared now, Collins stayed perfectly still, not even breathing less Roger hear him eves dropping. Finally not being able to stand it any longer Collins raises his hand to knock on the door, and just that moment Roger chooses to pull the door open, pitching Collins head first into the bath room, right into Roger.

Roger slammed down onto the cold tile with Collins on top of him, both of them scrambling to get up and out of the way. Finally Roger looks at Collins, whose standing by the door of the bath room staring at him, waiting for him to say something. When Collins doesn't say anything Roger starts fuming. Suddenly the next thing Collins knows is that Roger has pushed him to the ground and run back into his room.

Roger is in his room, yelling again and throwing things. Its a mystery as to whether or not anything in that room is intact any more. Finally it settles down and Collins lays back on the couch, he falls dead asleep.

When Collins awakes theres a note laying on his chest. He picks it up carefully and opens the folded page. It only has a few words, written in a chicken scratch that makes him flinch to read, it says:

"Damn it Collins. You threw out my razors. I need to shave my beard. Fuck you!"

Collins grins as he reads this and goes downstairs to show it to the girls.

Authors note: Yeah I forgot, I own nothing. Deal with it.

And thanks for the reviews!


	3. Appeasing Hitler

Chapter 3: Appeasing Hitler 

The next day there as a razor in the bath room. That night a clean-shaven Roger said, or rather yelled, his first coherent words.

"COLLINS! FUCK YOU!"

Collins had bought him an electric razor, and even tested it. Try as he might, there was no way possible for Roger to hurt himself. Roger was pissed. Collins just grinned. And life went on.

After a week there was a change in the loft, Roger now ventured forth into the apartment to lay on the couch and stare at the ceiling, while Collins was there. Collins sat on the dinning room table. And life went on.

Eventually Collins was able to get grunts, and an occasional "Fuck Off" out of Roger. They proceeded to be able to sit on the table next to each other eating Captain Crunch twice a day. And Roger brought out his guitar, though never played.

After three weeks of this, Collins broke down and finally asked Roger a direct question. "What do you want for breakfast?" Roger grunted, Collins sighed, and poured 2 bowls of Captain Crunch.

The next day Collins asked the same thing, and when he received a grunt, he only poured one bowl. And proceeded to eat it. Roger glared and got his own bowl. The third day, when Roger grunted Collins poured two bowls, complete with milk, a rarity, and proceeded to dump Rogers bowl on his head.  
Roger sputtered and glared, and seem to forget that he was supposed to be silent and full of angst and grief, and jumped up and dove to tackle Collins.

Collins expected this, so he neatly stepped to the left and slapped Rogers ass as he flew by.

Roger laid on the floor shaking, and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, and started laughing. True, it was a bit forced, and didn't seem quite natural from him, it sounded as if Roger had forgotten how to laugh, but it was a laugh. His face looked like it was going to split in two from his grin, his eyes wide, holding his side. He ran his hands through his now unruly mess of hair, knocking out cereal. Then Roger shook his head, not totally unlike a dog, spraying milk everywhere, Collins jumped back and exclaimed before slipping on the spilt milk and falling to the ground himself.

They both laughed, and the Roger looked up towards the couch and seemed to be about to yell something to someone, someone who wasn't there. It was that point where he started to cry. Roger sobbed, his shoulders shaking, his head falling to his chest. and his hands holding his face; the heels of his hands dug into his eyes as if to stop the flow of emotions. Collins slowly scooted over to him and simply put his arm around his shoulder while he sobbed. Nothing more.

Roger sobbed until his head hurt, he was red and his eyes were dry, and disgustingly enough there was mucus hanging out of his nose. Collins, being the sensitive soul he is, looked at him, turned his head slowly so they locked eyes, and said "You aren't one of those people that look good when they cry. You look like shit. Go shower, and then we'll talk." Roger was so taken aback by this that he got up, and crossed to the bathroom.

It was underneath the lintel that he stopped and looked at Collins. "Why? Why?"

Collins simply said "Go shower, I'll clean up in here."

Roger's face was a mixture of emotions, and very quietly he said "Bastard." Collins grinned and responded with "I know." before getting the mop and starting to clean.

Roger showered and sat on the couch.

A/N: I don't own.

More review por favor.


	4. Thoughts and Grief

a/n: I'm experimenting with my style. I'm discovering an intense dislike for the dispassionate form that my high school insists on force-feeding me. Things will most likely be funky.  
You were warned. 

- + - + - + - +

Chapter 4: Thoughts and grief

That fuck head, damn him. How can he do this to me? I thought he just needed a place to stay, I didn't think he was going to be come my god-damn keeper. My god! He even went through my room and the bathroom and threw out anything he deemed dangerous.

Bastard.

He just doesn't understand. She was my life, how am I supposed to live with out her? And it wasn't even the damn disease that killed her, that's the worst part. Here we were in fear of the day the disease would rip us apart and some horny fuck did it instead. When I think about what happened, I can't believe it. I grow so angry, I just want to kill something, kill them. I want to take a guitar string and wrap it around their necks, and pull. I want them to feel ever bit of pain, and then some, that they made her feel. I want them to die, slowly, just like she did. But the best part? I think I'll give them some smack first. Maybe I could carve her name in their skin, have them watch. They wont feel a thing, not at first. Wouldn't that be fun, having to watch yourself getting cut into, carved up. Its what they deserve.

And Mark. Those bastards. I can't believe they did it, I can't believe Mark didn't tell anyone else. God damn it, how could those pricks do it to him? Bad enough they got Mimi and had their fun, but Mark too. I over heard Collins talking to Joanne yesterday. I was shameless about it, but Collins knew I was listening. He let it slip. Mark was raped too. But only after Mimi had stopped screaming and struggling. I guess she wasn't enough of a conquest after that, those fucks. Mark is probably positive now. That was the last thing anyone wanted for him. None of this was wanted.

Its almost Angel's anniversary. I don't know if Collins does anything special for it. Damn it, he probably wants to visit him, but of course he has to keep watch on me.

They don't understand. She was my life, Mimi was. I remember our last words to each other. Clear as day. We were fighting over, of all things, marriage. She wanted to elope, make things easy, just the "family", I wanted a big wedding. I was such a prick too. I insisted that if we were going to get hitched we were going to do it right and make it huge. She was pissed because she knew we could never afford it. Hell, we can't even pay rent. Thank goodness Benny has a new woman that Muffy doesn't know about. That's helping, a lot.

Mark has to carry a cane all his life. I overheard that too. I left Collins a note asking him to get me some wood. I'm gonna try and carve him one. I used to carve toy cars for my little brother, cause god knows my father never did anything. I haven't carved in years though. I let it go because I thought it would ruin my image. Fuck my image. What does it matter? Not like I have any gigs anyway. Hell, not like I ever leave the apartment. Their all afraid I'll go back to smack. Little do they know, that's the last thing I want. That shit... Its shit. I couldn't do that. It would betray Mimi. Mimi quit for me, what would it be like if I started smack? After all she went through to become clean, if I suddenly started again? God no...

I haven't slept since she died. I can't do it. I'll dose, or I'll pass out, but mostly its just me staring at the ceiling. All the cracks in the damn drywall. Theres a thumb tack up there, no idea why. Its one of those things that I know Mimi would have laughed at, just the oddness of it. I can't sleep with out her, I'm used to hearing her breathing, feeling her curled up next to me, her head using me as a pillow.

I never realize she's really gone until I lay down for sleep. Or unless theres something I just know she needs to know, and I look up and yell for her, right before I realize she's not there.

She'll never be there. She's gone for good.

Damn them. Damn God. What the hell gives him the right to take her from this world? Is he that selfish? She was such a bright star. Couldn't he have waited a few more years for the disease to kill her, or was he that selfish that he couldn't wait? Can't blame him. I would have wanted Mimi with me too. Damn.

- + - + - + - +

I think he's asleep, or at least pretending to be. I need out of this apartment, so many memories. So many memories of her. God, I know she would be pissed if she saw me now. She didn't want me to be alone, and here I am, alone.

Oh Angel, oh sweet Angel. God just wanted you so bad, for there was no one more worthier of the title Angel then you. Not even the Angels in the sky, for you were real, and you didn't mind helping others. You were real.  
Is God?

No one will ever understand the pain I have everytime I think of you. I loved you, you were my life.

Damn.


	5. No Wonder The Electric Razor

Chapter 5 – No Wonder The Electric Razor

So, here I am, another year older, another year with out Angel. Angel wouldn't have wanted me to stay like this, constantly alone. I know this, but how can I abandon her and her memory? I would feel like I betrayed her. So instead I'm just going to go on with life, and start making breakfast. Yup, thats it. One step at a time towards the kitchen. Okay now, reach up, grab a bowl. Get the cereal from the top of the fridge. Pour the cereal into the bowl. Add milk. Get spoon. Take a spoonful. Chew. Chew. Swallow.

"Hey Collins, whats up?" I look up shocked, Roger just spoke! Civilly! With a casual statement! Oh my! Could, um... he be snapping out of it? Is his official mourning period over?

"Hey Roger, nothing much. Want some cereal?" I don't bother waiting for an answer, I just get up, grab a bowl. Get the cereal from the top of the fridge. Pour the cereal into the bowl. Add milk. Get spoon. Hand it to him. Something tells me that I need some spice in my life. I sigh.

When Roger hears me sigh he pauses in his devouring of the cereal and looks at me. "What wrong?" I nearly have a heart attack! Roger is thinking about something besides his grief! I can't take much more of this with out a heart attack! Oh I know he deserves more credit then that... wait. No he doesn't.

"I was just thinking about Angel." Its not really a lie, Angel is never truly far from my thoughts. I see him wince and give me a compassionate look. "I know what you mean." he says it so matter of factly, as if he infers all the emotions of loss I feel everyday. Maybe he does, maybe him loosing Mimi was akin to me loosing Angel. I can see him gazing at me, the look in his eyes saying 'hey! I finally got it! Oh I'm a fuckin' genius! I finally understand you! Too bad it took loosing Mimi..." All of his anger seems to be gone from him, as if he's accepted what has happened. He's full of surprises today, and they just don't seem to stop.

"I want to go see Mark today." I feel like I'm going to faint. I can't believe this. Roger Davis isn't... Roger Davis anymore. He's almost the i New Improved Roger Davis V.2.0. /i I'm astounded. But I keep my cool.

"Uh.. OoKay. Um. I'm going down there around 3, after his therapy session, so if you want to go with..." I stutter to a halt. I keep wondering when he's going to stop, and revert to his normal self. Maybe I should give the boy some credit. But... No, I'm going to take it at face value. He deserves at least that much.

Its only noon, we have three hours to kill. We eat in silent, and when we're both done we simply stare at each other from across the table, both a bit lost for words. Finally I can see him, it seems like he's screwing up his courage for something. Aye god, that means he probably wants to ask some horribly uncomfortable question. Maybe I am giving him too much credit... I sigh again and nod to him as if to say "well, come on, ask it already". He takes another moment, I guess to collect his thoughts, and finally asks.

"What do you miss most about Angel?" I stare at him, kind of surprised. It seems so bizarre that he's asking such a question, its not even a bad question, nor is it meant in a vicious manner. So with out thinking I respond "Her smile. The way she lit up the room, the way she felt when I held her in my arms." He nods.

"Me too. Especially at night. I haven't been able to sleep." I empathize completely, having not spent more then 5 hours asleep at anyone time since Angels death. Its a wonder I'm alive considering my bad sleeping habits. But he's right, its just so different not to have her next to me. Not to be able to wake in the night and watch her sleep, or feel her warmth next to me, keeping me warm and protecting me. Not to have her arm around my waist as she snores softly in my ear. Oh Angel, I miss you!

I don't know what comes over me just then, but I just say it. "Sometimes I want to join her." Roger looks a bit taken aback by this comment, of course he is! Come on, Collins, Collins here is professing to having suicidal thoughts. I pretty much just came out and said "Yes, I've stood in the bathroom hundreds of times, each morning with my razor wondering if I shouldn't kill myself." Roger's looking at me aghast. I think I spoke that thought out loud. Shit.

He finally just grins and jokes "No wonder you bought that damn electric razor." I give a small laugh and glance at the clock. Great. Three and a half hours to go. This is hard. Roger is looking at me. "Serious. I'm glad I'm not alone. Thanks."

With that I guess he noticed how I wanted to be alone, either that or he got bored. He got up and moved the couch, sprawling across one side. With his head hanging off the arm rest and one leg over the top. He seems to find it comfortable. I watch him for a few moments, wondering if he's asleep, but no, he's just staring at the ceiling. I figure I might as well take advantage of his good mood and get up. I sit on the other end of the couch and he glances at me before moving to sit into a more-normal position. We sit next to each other, and I can't help but liken the silence and awkwardness to my first date in high school. It was with a girl named Cheryl, and I swear, we probably spent 3 hours that day on a couch, sitting side by side on opposite ends, just staring at the wall in front of us.

Finally Roger looked over at me and said "Ya okay?" I nodded and he let it go. He shifted on the couch a bit, and sighed loudly. It looked like he was trying to sleep. I knew that feeling, I needed a good nap too. I went ahead and stretched out, propping my feet on the "coffee table" (its really just a crate), and folding my hands on my chest. Roger saw me and copied. I guess he found it comfortable enough, because he stopped tossing.

I stared at the ceiling for a good long while, before my eyes started to feel heavy, and I just let them drift close.

- + - + - + - + - +

"Mmm... Angel" I murmur as I move close to her... And then I shoot my eyes open and look down. Its most definatly not Angel that has her arm thrown over my waist, nor is it she who has her head pillowed on my arm and is snoring loudly. I can hardly believe it. I look at my watch, holy shit! I think quickly, counting up the hours, glancing at the window. We've been asleep since about 1, and its 9 now. We've slept for 8 hours. Oh. My. I don't want to move. I haven't felt this rested in a long time, and I know that Roger hasn't slept for a long time either. I don't want to ruin his sleep either. I don't know what to think or do.. I haven't done anything like this, with anyone since Angel left. Hell, I haven't even kissed anyone. Yeah, I know, I'm being rational, nothing happened. We just slept, but still, I feel like I've betrayed something. Its not a pleasant feeling.

I stare at the ceiling. Why is there a thumbtack up there?

I let my eyes slowly drift close again.

A/n: I own nothing. What do you think so far? I'm still experimenting with style a bit, so your just gonna have to work with me here. I'd call chapter four a success, even though it didn't do much to further the plot. Tell me what you think. Which chapters the best so far? What do you think of the story so far? I racked my brain prior to starting this for a new take, and I realized that there arn't any Roger Collins slash, only Roger/Mark, Mimi/Mark, and Collins/Benny (Ignoring the generic ones set up by the show itself). So I wanted something origional. Hows it working out?


	6. Come Home, I Need Help

Chapter 6 - Come Home, I Need Help

For once I feel rested. Judging by the light I've been asleep for at least 10 hours. I slowly get up, gently moving out of Mimi's embrace. I'm still half asleep, but I know I need to get up to take my pills. I pad across the floor into the kitchen and grab a glass of water, and I take my AZT. I go into my room and grab some clothes, I might as well shower while I have the time. It isn't until I'm standing in the shower, with the cold water streaming down onto my head that I fully awake and realize that Mimi isn't here.

I stand still for a moment, stuck with this concept in my head, mentally wondering What the hell. I mean, I could have sworn, sworn that Mimi was there, that we fell asleep on the couch together. I jump out of the shower, not even bothering to wash the shampoo off of myself, and only as a second thought do I grab a towel to wrap around myself. I quietly leave the bathroom and cross to the couch. Nervous of looking over the side and seeing whose there. Part of me just wants to run and hide and pretend it never happened. The other part of me wants to just pretend that it was simply a wonderful dream. But alas, me being one for always picking at scabs I go ahead and lean look onto the couch.

It was Collins.

But... Oh no...

I feel rather light headed, but I don't want to wake him. I run back to the bathroom, almost killing myself on the wet floor, and I jump back in the shower. I turn on the water as high as it goes, and though its freezing I sit under the spray, drawing my knees to my chest. Its like that that I stay, and sob in confussion. Did I betray Mimi? I love her, I never want to betray her. But how can I say that? I never wanted to betray April. Well fuck April, she betrayed me first by killing herself. Once betrayed all promises become null and void. But Mimi never betrayed me. Or did she? She died. She promised she wouldn't leave me, she said we would be together and die together. No. Mimi didn't betray me. Those scumbags betrayed her. They betrayed her by raping and killing her. I need to talk to someone. I need someone to help me figure this out...

Collins? No, not him. I don't want him to know. Maybe he slept through it all, and wont remember. That would be best. But who? Mark.

I gotta go see Mark. No time but the present, and he'll forgive me for the god awful hour. I haven't seen him since Mimi's funeral anyway. I'll take his cane with, though its not finished. I just want to show it to him.

Even though I've decided to go see Mark, it takes me another 10 minutes to bring my self to turn off the water and get out of the shower. I realize I havent' done laundry in a long time, probably since Mimi, so I just grab the cleanest looking pair of pants and shirt I can find. I climb out through the window and jump down the fire escape, I don't really want Collins to know whats going on.

When I reach the street level I look around, I haven't been outside of the apartment in months. Wow. But none the less I start down the street, heading towards where Joanne lives. Its only about 20 blocks away, but by time I get there I'm starting to get tired. Guess I haven't been exersicing much. But not matter, I'm at her building. I'm trying to decide the best way to get in. I really don't want to wake them, so I just climb their fire escape and look in the windows until I find Mark's room. I gently push the window open, when its open I close it just as carefully and let out the breath I was holding.

I see Marks face turned towards the window, he looks so peaceful, hard to imagine he was hurt and now HIV+. Poor guy. As I walk closer I notice his leg that doesn't quite look normal under the sheet. Almost as if were broken and though set as well as possible, would never be normal. Oh yeah, thats exactly what happened. I stare at the film maker for several minutes, glad that he at least is still here. I gently touch his shoulder, trying to wake him, and he groggily looks at me as he automatically gropes for his glasses on the table next to his bed. I watch him as his eyes focus on my face he registers that I'm here.

"Roger? What are you doing here?" I'm surprised a bit by his voice, especially since I haven't heard any voices besides mine and Collins in months. I just stare at him for a few more moments, before realizing that I've yet to answer his inquiry.

"Oh, um. I haven't seen you in a while. And I wanted to show you this..." I hold out the cane and he looks at it carefully, he sees every detail in it and rubs his hands down it. He seems about to speak but I rush on with my words "Its not done yet, but it will be. Its taking me longer then I thought to do it. Sorry" He just looks at me and nods, I think he understands that the 'Sorry' wasn't just for the cane, but for every thing.

He speaks so quietly its hard to hear, I'm not sure if its because he doesn't want anyone to wake up or if he's just emotional "I've missed you and the loft. I'm almost well enough to come home." I look at him and slowly give him a hug. Its kind of an awkward hug, but it works well enough. When I let him go he looks down at the cane again, tracing the curves of the wood gently. "Its a work of art"

I'll admit I blushed, but it true. I've spent almost every moment since I got the wood 3 weeks ago carving it. Its about halfway done, with at the top being a round knob he can hold on too. The knob is shaped like a camera, modeled after his own. Below the camera is a series of faces carved into the wood, Angel's and Collin's, and then Maurreen and Joanne, Theres one of Mimi lovingly carved with mine about half a distiance down, and then Mark and yes, even Benny, though he's at the very bottom. Each face carved and sanded smooth, each detail as perfect as possible. As he's turning it around in his hands he stops on Angel's face and gently traces it, his breath catches for a moment, and he tries not to get emotional. Below Benny's face is where its unfinished. He looks closely and can see the outlines of my Fender, and a reel of film, a drum, and a cow, the rest is still blank though. A symbol for each of us, I have it envisioned in my mind.

We both fall slient for a long time, just enjoying being back together. He looks up at me and gives a half smile. He suddenly throws the blankets off and grasps the cane. He braces the cane on the floor and swings his legs off the bed. He grimaces as he sets the hurt one on the ground but shakes his head and stands up. He crosses to the closet and tries to pull out a giant suitcase, he doesn't seem to be able to do it so I stand and pick it up for him, he points to the bed where I set it down and open it up for him. He goes to the dresser and starts throwing clothes into the case, I watch and then start to help, taking stacks of his t-shirts and putting them in. It isn't long until the suitcase is full and I zip it close. He motions to it and we go towards the window, I climb out first and take the suitcase, I take it down to the street level and lean it against the wall before running back up. I see him trying to climb out the window, but I'm not having any of that. I grab him by the waist and simply lift him up. Poor guy, he's lost so much weight, he's like a feather.

I carry Mark to the street level where I put him down. I look around and flag down a cab, Mark nods and pulls out his wallet. I help the filmmaker into the cab and put the case in the trunk before sitting in the backseat next to him.

We ride home in silence. Mark will help me figure things out.

A/n: And thats chapter 6. I own naught.


	7. Stupid Mistakes and Attraction

Chapter 7 – Stupid Mistakes and Attraction

When we got back to the building I carried Mark's suitcase up first and left it on the staircase landing before getting Mark. When I opened the loft door ahead of Mark, holding the suit case, I was greeted by the sight of Collins pacing, his head whipped around to see me. What he did caught me completely off guard; Collins slammed me against the wall, and my head snapped back, denting the drywall, while he grabbed my arms and inspected my veins.

I tried to push him away, because he was too rather close to me, and my head hurt. Alas, Collins had been taking better care of himself then I had and was stronger then me. My feeble attempts were in vain. Finally, when he was satisfied that I was clean, he collapsed against me. And that's how we were when Mark hobbled in, leaning on his cane. I was leaning against the wall, holding my head with one hand and Collins was between my legs, his head against the wall above my shoulder, our torsos pressed together.

What a sight, but all poor Mark did was widen his eyes a bit before moving for the couch.

Collins slowly got up and pushed himself away from me, looking like he had aged 10 years. When he was standing straight up he once again surprised me. He punched me in the jaw, and god did it hurt! I fell to the floor while Collins stormed into his room and slammed the door. Mark stayed where he was, not even looking at me, and asked "Forget to tell him where you were?"

Ugh. Something in me snapped, because I snarled my response. "No, I didn't forget! He was asleep when I left."

"Oh. So you just didn't want him to know."

"No Mark, he was asleep..." and with that, I got up, went to my room and closed the door. Hard.

- + - + - + - +

God, I was so afraid when I woke up. Roger wasn't anywhere in the loft and I knew he had probably freaked out when he woke. I mean I freaked! Internally, yes, because I didn't want to wake him, but freak I did. And what did he do? He disappeared. Aye god. I was so terrified that he had gone to get smack, it was all I could think about, him coming home, eyes glazed, trashed. Or worse, dead in an alley from an overdose or beaten to unconsciousness because he couldn't pay. I shuddered at the thought.

God, I had never felt so relieved as when I looked into his eyes and saw that he was completely lucid, and his arms untouched. And then when I saw Mark come in, I got angry all over again! How could he bring Mark up here! How dare he! Mark is still injured, and still waiting for the test results to say officially whether he's positive or not. And Mark! God, he's so pale, so thin! And he was never a big guy to begin with, but now it's like he's a ghost of his former self.

If I find out that Roger went out with the sole purpose of getting Mark I'll kill him. I swear to god. I will kill him for endangering Mark like that. God, why can't we rewind and go back 10 years, before Mimi left, before Angel left, before the disease even? Everything was so simple then; our only worry was paying rent. Mark and I used to be close, pre-Mark-and-Maureen. Me and Mark, yeah well, let's admit it. We definitely almost had something going, and then I got a teaching job and left. And well... it was my own fault really. I never called or wrote. So he moved on...but I still remember our first and only kiss.

It was a Saturday night, and Roger was out getting high and Benny was at Allison's house. I remember Mark sitting at the table scribbling furiously and sketching shots. I asked him what he was working on and he started describing all these vivid images in his head. He was so excited too, so passionate. And when he got to describing a scene that had a kiss, I just had to stop him, he was talking a mile a minute and had stopped making sense. What he had described was anatomically impossible. I remember he was so caught up in the story, didn't even think twice, but stood up and put his arms around me just like in his vision. It was just so natural seeming. And then it seemed just as natural that he reach up and kiss me. And natural that I kiss him back, and put my arms around his waist before deepening the kiss, and leading us to the couch with out breaking it.

And that's when a fucked up Roger came home—God I was so pissed. I remember Mark's head shooting up and him getting up to help Roger into his room. After that, well I freaked and left for the Life Cafe and fell into bed with some random guy, I think that was the night I got AIDS. Needless to say, two days later I was on a bus to Chicago University to teach, and left Mark behind to take care of Roger.

Stupid, Stupid, Stupid...

Roger has the most incredible green eyes...

No! No, no, no. Angel, I love you! I won't do anything. I'll be faithful. Oh why did you leave me? I need your help so bad...

Oh Angel.

- + - + - + - +

Something is going on between those two, and I don't think either wants to admit it. Poor guys. They are both so alone, with their loves gone from them, both so determined to remain faithful to them even though they are lost. I know them, I know how they work. Neither will give in and admit anything until they're forced to. I'm wondering if I shouldn't... I don't know.

You know, life is really fucked up at the moment. Here I am, injured, with AIDS, and crippled for life in an apartment with two guys, who also have AIDS, who've lost the loves of their lives. And all I can think of is how sexy they looked standing against the wall together. Damn.

- + - + - + - +

I'm straight. Right? Right. I loved Mimi. Still love. Not loved, _love_. That means I'm _straight_. That means having Collins pressed against me doesn't affect me at all. Right? In theory...

Shit.

I swear to god... Collins shouldn't affect me this way... Oh my god. No! Collins is not attractive to me. Mimi is attractive. Mimi with the dark curls, and sexy smile. Mimi. Not Collins. _Mimi_.

Mimi.

- + - + - + - +

The night passed and none of the boys slept. They just stared into space with nothing but their thoughts for company.

A/n: Yay! Chapter 7! I got through chapter 10 written (boring day at work) so updates will stay frequent-ish. Right now chapters 8-10 are with my beta (I less than three her). But lets just say things are getting interesting. heh.

Keep reviewing. It keeps me happy. Oh and the dividers I use for the sections... done on pupose. They make me giggle.


	8. A Grieving Angel

Chapter 8 – A Grieving Angel

Life in the loft was quite strange, even though it had a predictable pattern to it. Everyday was a montage of Captain Crunch, AZT, sulking, hidden glances, and carrying Mark to the cab for his doctors appointments and physical therapy.

It was now approaching Halloween, the anniversary of Angel's death, and neither the Musician or the Filmmaker had any idea on what to do for the Anarchist. They wanted to do something special for Collins, something fitting for Angel, but it wasn't until a week before the anniversary that they were struck with utter brilliance. Mark had been going through his old tapes when he found a vast array of shots featuring Angel and Collins in them. With a week to go Mark had a lot of work. Roger too was struck by brilliance, which he combined with Marks to decided to make a box to hold tape.

They couldn't work on the box and video in front of Collins, so Mark spent many a late night working on it, and Roger retreated to his room, pretending to have a relapse in grief. Collins fell for it because it was plausible, for Roger never had explained what caused him to snap out of it in the first place.

When the day came around, everything in the loft was dead silent. Mark and Roger tip toed around the place, and Collins didn't even wake until 3 o'clock. He was unkempt and still in his pajamas from the day before when he stumbled out of his room. All conversations were very short and terse, until finally at seven o'clock Collins got up and started to head towards his bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Mark asked of him quietly. Collins just stared at him, his grief visible in his eyes and the way he stood, slouching in upon himself. He had barely spoken all day, and when he did his voice was hoarse from grief and he was very curt.

"Bed." was his response.

"Wait please."

"Yeah, we have something to show you."

Collins stopped at this and slowly turned and sat back down while Roger ran to get the tape and its case. Setting up the projector they started the film. The screen stayed dark and slowly faded in on Angel drumming and singing a soft song. She sounded beautiful, she hadn't even known that Mark was recording her, the image faded out, though the music remained. The montage continued:

_ Close on Angel, helping Collins out of the street where she pushed him down as a joke._

_ Shot of Angel being carried by Collins, both grinning at the camera._

Shot of Angel and Collins kissing.

_Shot of Angel and Mimi at the Life Cafe_

_Shot of Angel carrying Collins_

_Shot of Angel sleeping in Collin's arms_

_Shot of Angel. Nothing but shots of Angel at her prime._

_Shot of Angel drumming on the street._

_Shot of Angel at Life support meeting hugging Gordon._

_Shot of Angel sleeping, beginning to look sick._

_Shot of Angel telling Collins goodbye, her voice could be heard over the music saying "Its okay to love __someone else. You need to live. Just know I'll wait."_

_Shot of Angel's funeral, her casket being lowered._

_Shot of Collins giving the eulogy, panning across to to see all the bohemians weeping for their loss._

_Shot of Angel laughing and smiling, saying "I'll cover you; my king."_

_Last shot of Angel blowing a kiss to the Camera and saying "I love you"._

By the end of it Collins was weeping, Roger had tears running down his cheeks, and even Mark, who had watched it and put it together had tears in his eyes. Collins was sobbing, but his eyes remained riveted on the screen, even after the movie was long over. Then Mark laboriously got up with the help of his cane and put the tape in the case. Crossing to Collins he put gently put the case in Collins' lap and sat down next to him. Roger moved to sit on Collins's other side and Collins turned the case in his hands, staring at the designs inscribed into the wood.

Like Mark's cane it was truly a work of art, with the top having a glass panel under which a picture of Angel and Collins hugging was placed. On the sides were carvings of Angel's name with little angel wings in the corners. On the front was a bust of Angel, with wings coming from behind her shoulders, wearing her Santa hat. On the back Angel was carved with Collins' arm around her, her head resting on his shoulder, and him gently kissing the top of her head.

It was truly remarkable, and the longer Collins stared at the images the harder he cried. The more he weeped. Mark and Roger put their arms around him as he folded over sobbing. There were no words of comfort that could be spoken, all they could do was hold him as he wept.

After an indescribable amount of time Roger noticed Mark starting to doze, an effect of his medicine. So Roger nodded with his head towards Marks room and he got up and moved to his room. Roger stayed with Collins, rocking him back and forth gently until the tears ran dry and long after.

Finally Collins looked up and saw Roger still holding him. "It never got easier. They said time would help, but it never healed the hole in my heart." Roger simply nodded and Collins continued. "Five years now, gone for five long years! These should have been our glory years. We should have been together, maybe adopting kids, growing together. She shouldn't have left me!" Roger simply nodded, trying his best to be compassionate, when in reality Collins' words put a cold lump in his throat.

All they both could concentrate on was the loss, that they were alone, they'd never regain that love and fill the hole in their hearts. Both were lost in their own thoughts, not realizing they mirrored each other. They somehow shifted from Roger holding Collins to holding each other. Their grips almost desperate, not wanting to be alone.

- + - + - + - +

The day after Angel's anniversary all three boys cleaned up and got on their "funeral clothes", called that because it was the only time they were worn. They all piled into a cab and headed to the cemetery where Angel laid. They ambled through the neat and orderly rows pausing here and there to lay a carnation on a friends grave: Gordon, Paul, April, Mimi; all friends that were lost, all friends who were loved.

When they reached Angel's grave they stood around it in silence, each contemplating, thinking about her, reading and rereading the engraved words:

Angel Dumott Schunard

October 31, 1998

May she forever rest in peace

knowing that she is remembered.

"Today for you. No Regrets"

- + - + - + - +

Angel was my inspiration. Her voice will forever be in my ear. I think that she was one of my closest friends. Hard to imagine that she's gone. Hard to imagine she's been gone for 5 years. God, she had such a future. She could have been anything she wanted. She wanted to design clothes and raise children. She would have been a great mom.

In the short time I knew her, I believe she knew me better then anyone else, including myself. I remember the late nights, just staying up talking. It hurts so much to remember. It hurts even more to forget.

They say what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. But sometimes it seems like the grief is like a slow acting poison. Or maybe that's just the disease. Collins is so strong, I don't know how he does it. He's lost so many people, has had so much to deal with. I don't know what will happen once he's gone. I don't know how we'll all survive. There's only so much grief a person can take… we're all going to break one day from the strain of it. But at that point, will there be anyone to put us back together?

- + - + - + - +

"I'll be back in a few minutes" I said over my shoulder, I'm already walking away, back towards the two plots that rest side by side. One bearing the name of Mimi Marquez, the other of April Showers. I remember how I used to tease April about her name, her mom loved the joke. I remember her favorite come back was "Well, why don't you marry me and change it?" I was always to chicken. Maybe if I had...

I think its fitting that they lie next to each other, together. I've already made it known to Mark and Joanne that I want to be buried in between them when I go. I think its fitting...

I loved them both, never doubt. With April it was good, but we ruined it with the drugs. She was such a contrary person. If anyone told her not to do something, she automatically did it. Why didn't I resist? Or had been more firm? She started the smack before I did. Hell, she's the reason why I did it, not that I blame her. It was my own weakness that led me to it. I know this, I'm not going to blame her. But I'm not going to make her into a saint or a martyr. She had no right! No right at all to kill herself! I still have the note she left, the edge of it soaked in her blood. "Roger love, I'm sorry. We've got AIDS" she didn't even sign it. April, you were a fool. A beautiful fool who just didn't know when to stop. And me, well I was the fool that believed nothing could ever bring us down. I never should have doubted the power of smack and the man.

Mimi, god I had such a different relationship with her. It was totally unlike mine with Aprils. Maybe that's what made it work so well. With April it was all about her, all about what she wanted and how she felt. God, that relationship was an emotional roller coaster. In retrospect, when I'm honest with myself, I don't think it could have lasted much longer. I think it was doomed from the moment we started smack. But with Mimi, god I loved her. That was true love right there. With her it wasn't all about her, or all about me. We made each other pay attention to each other. Granted we had a lot of fights… mainly about her job and Benny. God I was so jealous. If only I'd have known, if only had been smarter I would have realized all the time I was wasting when we fought. I never though she would have been ripped away from us so violently.

I wonder what its like to be dead. Will I see them both? Will I have to choose between them? Or is death just an end, and there is nothing more. I hope not. I miss them so much...

Mimi… April…

I love you both.

a/n: There's chapter 8. I got 9 and 10 done as well, like I mentioned. I'm going to hold off on posting them a bit since I have to decide if I'm going to use them as 9 and 10 or push them back a bit more. But either way, keep reviewing. Now theres a few things I wanted to reply to real quick:

Harper's Pixie: Yeah, I know I just had to throw that in. I came up with it and it seemed the perfect way to add more angst to everything. And don't worry, theres going to be plenty of angst!

Countrybutterfly: I know it sometimes takes a while to figure out the POV, but believe it or not I do it on purpose. Especially with the Collins and Roger, their simularities in how their handling their loss is what I'm using to bring them together. And the similarities with Mark... well, I think that will clear up later.

PhoenixSworn: I realized part of my problem with spelling and such. The copy of word on my parent's PC (what I'm using) for some reason doesnt' have a spell checker installed! but thats going to be fixed once I get to school because I'll be back on my PC with OpenOffice.

General note: I'm moving shortly here, going to college and all, so updates might get crazy slow, but I'm too enraptured with this story to let it go. I reread it the other night and got pissed that the author hadn't updated. Heh. Thats me for ya.


	9. Private Admission and Triangles

Chapter 9 – Private Admission and Triangles

I'll freely admit it. I'm in love with both of them. I know they love me, but I don't think they are in Love. I don't think they could ever Love again. But I can live with that. I think.

At least I have new inspiration for a movie. It's going to be a documentary on handling grief. Staring: Roger and Collins. What better subjects?

I can hear them in the kitchen arguing. Probably about what to do for money. Roger doesn't like using the ATM that Collins rewired too much for fear of getting caught. Maybe I should go talk to them. Just chat and calm them down. Sounds good. It's a plan. Oh, where's my cane? There we go, forgot I dropped it on the floor. I hate having to depend on it, even if it is lovely. It's so frustrating to always have to remember where I put it, and moving so slowly. I can't even go up and down stairs. May never be able too. Oh well.

Ooo, almost there. Finally! At the doorway.

Whoa Buddy!

Whoa there is right! Talk about a wrong moment to enter. Collins just grabbed Roger's face and kissed him.

Wow.

They're standing next to the kitchen counter kissing. I mean a full on, pressed tightly against each other, leaning against the counter top, kissingFunny. My face feels warm. Their oblivious. Holy shit..

Oh. My. I think its suddenly very warm here in the loft.

They're just standing there kissing. Collins is sliding his hands down Rogers chest and moving them too Roger's hips, pulling him close. Roger is gripping the counter top, oh, now he's moving his hands to Collins's shoulders. Their totally oblivious, it must be intense. I feel like such an intruder, just watching them but I can't tear my eyes away. Look at him, Roger is shuddering under Collin's touch. I wish I could have that effect on him, on either of them. Why is the loft suddenly so warm?

Wait... what's going on? What's he doing?

Oh no!

That bastard. Why Roger? Why? Why are you pushing him away? Oh don't do this to Collins! Don't run away! Ah but he's out the door. Roger, when will you ever learn? Poor Collins. I can see the emotions clearly on his face as he leans on the counter. His arms braced on it, his breathing harsh, I can hear him trying to slow it.

What's he doing? He's going after him? No! He can't! He doesn't know Roger that well! That will only make things worse! He's at the door... crap! I guess...

"Collins. Come here."

- + - + - + - + - +-

He left. God. Do I revolt him? I don't think so. Geeze, he responded... what a kiss. What a kiss!

Maybe I should go find him. Talk to him, apologize for it. I guess I read the signals wrong. Maybe he's not interested. I had hoped he was. Well, no use sighing over it. Might as well find him.

Ugh. I need my coat. Okay, here I go. Walking towards the door now. Step. Step. Step. Reach for the knob...

"Collins" I turn and see Mark in his doorway. I wonder how much he saw. "Come here." I sigh and walk over too him.

Imagine my surprise when he kisses me.

Aye god, this is too much for my brain...

I'm just going to give in for once...

- + - + - + - + - +-

Oh my.

Collins just kissed me. Oh. My. Collins just kissed me. What on earth?

But.. I mean... I thought... Maybe... I was attrat- wait... But never... He just... Actually...

I kissed him back!

And I liked it... more then liked in fact... liked it rather a lot. Ugh. So here I am, standing in the middle of the street freaking out because I kissed Collins. I'm pathetic. God. What a kiss! I can still feel how he felt pressed against me, how his arms felt around my waist, how I shuddered at his touch. I'm probably blushing. I wonder what the people passing me think of my odd behavior.

The look of hurt in his eyes when I ran away...

Yikes! I'm scum. Scum, that's it. That's exactly what I am. Oh the look on his face... I can't believe I was responsible for that.. but I know I am. SCUM! That's what I am! Ugh! I don't deserve anyone anymore. I can't believe I did that. I had the love of my life, I don't need to do this to Collins, I don't need to hurt anyone trying to recreate it... No. I have to, I love him, I'm not in love, but I love him. I'm not going to let things go down shit creek.

I'll go apologize! That's it. I'll beg forgiveness. I should. I will. Okay, here I go, turning around now. Step. Step. Ste-

"ROGER!" Damn it. I don't want anyone to know yet. I turn on my heels, arms out palms up in greeting.

"JOANNE!"

I always knew I should have become an actor.

- + - + - + - + - +-

a/n: sorry bout the long delay, have been at school and busy busy. Hopefully I'll update more often now. Yay.

Read and review por favor.


	10. Bouncy Beds and Door Slamming

Chapter 10 – Bouncy Beds and Slamming Doors

"JOANNE!"

I always knew I should have become an actor. Aye god, what is this? The day from hell? God damn it. "How ya doing?" Aw, here I go again, pretending to be a nice guy, I used to be such an asshole, why can't I go back to that?

"I'm good, and you? You coping okay Rog?"

Yeah.. heh. That's one way to put it. "Oh definitely! I couldn't be better! Best I felt all year" Damn it. How long before I can get away with out being a total snot.

"Well that's good. Hey! Why don't you come back to mine and Maureen's place for a bit? We'd love to have you. Stay for dinner. I'm cooking - I banned Maureen from the kitchen."

Shhhhiiiit. Can't really say no, because I haven't seen them in a long time.. but.. Collins... but... but... but... Shit. Oh! "Sorry Joanne, I was just running out to get some groceries, I have to get back to the loft to help Mark out."

"Where's Collins? Isn't he there?" Damn, I have to nod don't I? Nodding. Condemning. "Then it's settled. Mark will be fine. Don't worry." And now she grabs my arm. God Joanne, I love you to death, but at this moment I want to stab you in the eye with a ice pick.

And twist.

And twist.

And damn it.

+-+-+-+-+-+

Yes! Yay me! Ooo Baby I want to do a happy dance. Yay me! Yay him. Yay Collins!

It's my birthday, It's my birthday! Go Mark! Go Maaarrrk! It's your birthday. Its my birthday!

And he scores! And the crowd goes wild!

AHHHHHHHHH

Hell ya!

Bouncy Bed!

Ooo, this bed needs some WD-40.

Squeak.

Bouncy! Yay!

-+-+-+-+-+-

"So…" Roger looked at Joanne, and shifted in his seat, he was only ever so slightly uncomfortable.

"So Roger, what the hell is going on?" Maureen repeated, she of course had noticed something odd in his behavior immediately. Roger continually cursed his luck and himself for caving into Joanne.

"Um… Well you see… um…" He was desperately trying to stall, hoping to find some way out of there. He wanted to go apologize to Collins. The way he figured was he had one of two options, to either cave, tell them, or just make an excuse and run. He was leaning towards the second.

"The sooner you tell us the sooner we'll unblock the door." Roger mentally cursed Joanne. Knowing she was right. They had blocked the door which a large table that required two people to move. There was no way he could do it by himself.

He was reluctant, but he caved, and so he summed it up as succinctly as he could. "I like Collins."

Maureen looked at him as if he had grown another head. "Well duh. He's your friend. We all like Collins."

Roger looked at her, perplexed at her misunderstanding, but he quickly decided to take advantage of it. He ignored Joanne's look of shock. "Yes Maureen. I like Collins and I'm ashamed at myself for taking advantage of his friendship for so long, and I want to find a way to make it up to him. Make him feel more appreciated by his friends."

She looked at him skeptically, and then moved to the table. Roger stood and helped her move it slightly before she put it back down. "But Roger, whats the big deal about that?" Roger looked at her and then Joanne. Joanne had long since caught on, he looked at the door and tried to figure out if there was enough room to slip through the door, it wouldn't open all the way yet because of the table. 'Fuck it, I'll go for it.'

Roger slipped through the door, both girls staring at him, and slammed it shut in their faces.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Wow. I am so confused now. I'm lying here, in Marks bed on my back. Staring at the ceiling. Nude. Just thought to throw that in there. Nude.

Way to go Collins.

Lets review today: Argued with Roger. Kissed Roger. Screwed Mark.

Lovely.

Could life suck any more or be anymore confusing? Hm... I think not.

So now the question is: What the hell do I do?

Lets look at my options now shouldn't?  
1) Let things lie, say nothing.  
2) Let things progress how they will.  
3) Tell Roger, get everything in the open.  
4) Run away.

As tempting as my fourth option sounds, I'm thinking...

"Hey Mark, lets not tell anyone about this yet. Okay?"

"mmhhmm"

"Good. Thanks."

"Mmhhmm"

I guess I should roll over and say something more. Chit chat a bit I guess. Or I could get dressed. Meh, not yet. I remember how pissed Angel would get if I got out of bed too soon.

Oo... Damn. Angel. Oh man. I think she'd be okay with Roger... But Mark? Damn it.

Okay, rolling over now. Damn him, he's grinning like a Cheshire cat. Is he ticklish? Oo theres a thought to follow up on. Where to try first. Lets try his side.

Ooomph. He's got good reflexes. That kick in the stomach defiantly hurt. Guess he doesn't like being tickled.

Too damn bad. He's gonna be.

ooo.. his plan is so much more pleasurable.

Lets go with his plan. He's a little horn dog...

-+-+-+-+-+-

Roger walked hurriedly down the street, trying to get back to the loft as quickly as he could. As he left the building he had heard Joanne and Maureen calling after him, but he ignored it. He figured he could always claim he had never heard their yells for an explanation.

Once he reached the building he hurriedly climbed up the flights of steps to get the loft and quietly let himself in. He looked around and briefly thought it odd that he didn't see anyone in the common areas, but he disregarded it. He went in his room and threw his coat on the bed, and then went and knocked on Collins' door. He didn't get any response, and was briefly afraid that Collins had gone out. He wanted to get his apology done and over with while he still had his courage screwed up. He didn't know where Collins could have gone, but he decided to knock on Marks door to at least figure out if they went out somewhere together- after all, he thought, Mark could have had an appointment he had forgotten about.

He knocked on Marks door, and while he didn't hear a "come in" he did here some sort of movement in the room. He went ahead and opened the door and the site that greeted him made him calmly looked at the two of them in bed for a moment. Then he grabbed the door knob, said "What the fuck?" before closing the door.

As he crossed to his room, he could hear Collins saying "ssshhhiiiiet" through the thin walls. He opened his bedroom door, walked in, and ever so carefully slammed it shut prior to turning on his stereo very loudly.

Very very loudly.

-+-+-+-+-

A/n: Theres chapter 10. I finally got motivated again. Yay me!

Chapter 11 when ever I can swing it. Hopefully within a week. Gotta write it first. I hate the formating thingie.


	11. I’m not because I can’t be

Chapter 11 – I'm not because I can't be

"What the fuck?" was followed shortly by a locked door and loud music. _Damn_ though Collins. Again and again. _Just my luck. Shit. _ Collins laid back in the bed, Mark still next to him and considered his options. They were few.

With out waiting too long, Collins untangled himself and crossed to Roger's door. He knocked on the door softly, and then again louder. There was no response, even after pounding on the door, just the incessant, overwhelming music hat was surely about to blow the speakers out. Collins tried the door handle and cursed when it refused to yield. He heard Mark cough from the other door way, he was leaning against the jam, but Collins ignored him. It was Roger that he was concerned about, nnot Mark. He even knew it was unfair, but he personally blamed Mark for all his troubles.

With his forehead against the door Collins called out to Roger again, banging his head forward in frustration at the continued lack of response. Slowly he gathered himself and went to his room. He went on the fire escape, and saw Roger on his windowsill, smoking and strumming his guitar aimlessly. His back was to Collins and Collins simply stared. "Roger?" It was a plea and a question all in one, odd coming from such a confidant person as Collins; there was a grunt for a reply. "I'm … I'm… no. I don't regret it." Roger seemed shocked, his back tensed, but he didn't turn to look at Collins; he simply kept staring straight ahead out into the street. "I'm not, because I can't be. No regrets. Remember?" Finally Roger turned to look at Collins, he seemed about to say something but stopped with the words forming on his tounge.

Finally Roger spoke, after the silence had lengthened to an almost unbearable length, with only the music pounding out the window to fill it.

"Bullshit." Roger said it so softly Collins almost didn't catch it. He fell silent, neither speaking once again, until like the tornado that took Dorthy and Toto over the rainbow Roger flew up, standing square facing Collins, his voice loud and carrying through the wind. His flushed with anger, and his hair fell into his eyes. "Bull Shit! Of course there are regrets. With out regrets nothing means anything. I regret every day that Mimi is gone. Everyday that I have AIDS and now take AZT. I regret leaving home and being a Junkie, putting Mark through hell. There's always regrets! With out regrets you'll never appreciate what you had! So unless you didn't appreciate and love Angel like you say you do, then you regret her dying!"

The tornado blew out, and the leftover breeze went through the window into Rogers room and closed the window. Collins remained on the fire escape, staring at the street below through the metal mesh, not thinking, not feeling. Just being.

-+-+-+-+-+-

Mark leaned against the door jam and listened to Roger's out burst and cringed. He knew it was his fault, he seduced Collins, no doubt about it. He felt some guilt, but generally he was able to shake off the guilt. He thought that the more strife the two other men went through now, the stronger they'd be in the long run. The stronger they were the more able they would be able to cope with his impending death.

-+-+-+-+-+-

Roger sat on his bed in his room, frozen inside, sitting as still as he could. The CD had ended, and he hadn't bothered to turn it back on, so all was silent. He sat and carefully started thinking. _Lets be rational,_ he was thinking_ Lets review the day.: I kissed Collins, Talked with Joanne, Saw Collins in bed with Mark, and then Yelled at Collins. That equals what? A fucked up day? Nah. Its typical for someone as naturally fucked up as me I guess. Hm… I'm pissed. That's what it means. I'm hurt, and royally pissed off at Collins._ Roger slowly stood up and put his guitar down on the bed.

_I'm just going to pretend it never happened._

Roger sighed with a determination.

-+-+-+-+-+-

_I'm going to follow Roger's lead. I don't want to screw up again._

Collins sighed in despair.

-+-+-+-+-+-

_Knowing Roger he's going to make believe that nothing went on today. Well that would be counter productive, so I do believe I'm going to shove it in those two's faces every chance I can get. Good._

Mark sighed happily because he had a plan.

a/n: its short, but its here. I hit a good point of inspiration, so hopefully things will start flowing smoothly from my brain to the computer again. Read and Review cause they make me happy.

Coming up soon: Drunken boy


	12. Cold Poreclain and Drinks

Chapter 12 – Cold Porcelain and Drinks

The season change had crept up on them, the boys had gotten into such a routine of day to day business, angst, and ignoring their problems that they didn't notice the leaves changing, and the temperature dropping.

Roger slowly crawled out of bed, freezing, and looked out his window to realize it was snowing. "Great" he mumbled, before wrapping his blankets around himself as he shuffled across the hall toward the bath room. Once in he didn't even bother closing the door, he just shuffled over to the toilet and dropped his sweat pants. And then his jeans. And then his other pair of sweat pants. And his long johns. And then he sat down on the cold porcelain, doing an admirable job of not shrieking like a little girl at the cold, though the temptation was there.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-

God damn its cold! I hope there's cereal, because I'm starved. As I step into the kitchen area I see Mark and Collins sitting on the table eating, there's a third bowl on the counter and I hop up next to Mark. I notice on the clock its around noon.

"So..." Mark tries to start a conversation. It falls flat. None of us have spoken much in the past month or so since the incident that I'm stubbornly refusing to admit happened. If no one admits it, it didn't happen, right? Mark tries again. "How about we go get drunk?"

I stare at Mark, thoughts racing. The only thought I can really truly hold on to is that getting drunk will ruin myself control. But then again...

I found myself saying "Sure" and I saw Collins nod.

"Good, lets go" I heard Mark say. Me and Collins nod with locked eyes.

- + - + - + - + - +

"Omph. What time is it?" I slur as I hit my head on the door jam. Me and Rog are carrying Mark between us.

We're all trashed, but none of us are willing to admit it. We quickly discover that the loft is freezing, so I nod my head in the direction of my room, and me and Roger make a bee line. Once there we drop Mark on the bed, Roger runs for more blankets and I turn the space heater up on high.

When Roger comes back in there's a moment of hesitation before we both let the alcohol to take over briefly. We collapse on the bed, huddling together with Mark under the blankets.

I don't know about them, but I'm quickly sobering up the longer we lay next to each other. It soon became apparent that the same effect wasn't being had on Mark, because he suddenly decided he was too warm and stripped down to his boxers. He then decided that it should be declared "No-Pants Sunday". I debated whether or not to inform him that it was Wednesday. Roger, being just as trashed as Mark decided that Mark was "Fucking Brilliant!" and quickly stripped down to just his boxer-briefs.

So here I am, a gay man, laying in between a bi-sexual and a sexually-confused man, in bed, both of whom are incredibly attractive, and near nude. And there is nothing I can do, because I'm too scared to mess anything up further.

Fuck; life isn't fair. I'm just drunk enough that I decide that I'm going to blame my current predicament on Angel. I lie back and try to sleep; I stack my hands on my chest. I don't know what Roger and Mark are thinking, but they try to copy me.

We lay like that; three sticks in a row; until Mark giggles and curls up on his side with his head on my shoulder. Roger soon decides to copy.

Oh life is really sucking at this moment.

- + - + - + - + - +

"Collins... Tommy honey" My eyes snap open. The only person I've even known to call me that was Angel. I know I'm dreaming, but I'm comforted to hear her voice and see her standing at the foot of the bed. Its been so long since she left. Too long.

"Angel love!" I greet her, trying to rise but unable, though I'm alone in the bed, oddly enough.

"Tommy, your being a fucking idiot."

"What?" I sputter surprised at her frank statement.

"You know Roger well enough to know you have to force the issue, or nothing will ever be resolved. Go for it. Mimi says she feels the same." Angel waved good bye as she faded away and my last glimpse was of her impish smile that I adored so much.

- + - + - + - + - +

I woke with Mark laying on top of me, and Roger curled up against my side still. I didn't question it. I knew it was foolish to believe that Angel had visited me, but my heart also told me that figment of imagination or no, its what Angel would have wanted. So instead of pushing them off and getting up, I wrapped my arms tighter around them and slept.

- + - + - + - + - +

Mm mm. Sleep is good. Like sleep. Collins comfy. Wait... WHAT! Ah geeze, not again. I'm now officially awake, and loathing it. Damn it. Mark is laying on top of Collins, breathing into my face, his breath smells like alcohol still. Oh man, my head hurts. I need Tylenol. Aha! Good ol' Collins, left it on the nightstand with a glass of water. Good. Two Tylenol coming right up. Ah, that's better. Thank goodness for that.

I have two choices now, as I can see them. I can get up, go to my room and freeze my ass off for the rest of the night. Or my other option is to stay here, be warm, and keep sleeping. Or I can lay here, be warm, and figure this out. I guess ignoring what Collins and Mark did isn't really helping, but damn, it just hurt so much. How the hell could they betray me? Well… Its not like I have much of a claim on either of them

Ugh. I can picture it now, Mimi would laugh, throwing her head back slapping my shoulder. Then she'd say "Don't be a fool! I'm with Angel. So if we're together, why shouldn't you and Collins be? And hell, even Mark needs love. Go for it hun! Life in the moment" and then she'd shrug and laugh it off. Heh. Yeah, she'd defiantly get a kick out of this predicament.

I don't know. But this feels right. This being everything, being here with Mark and Collins. I'm living as well as I can with the time I have left. I'm going to live life to the fullest right now. And right now means sleep. But later means talking.

Ugh. I'm going to regret this later, but I'll deal with it.

Remember! No day but today. We should have killed who ever thought that up. Such a pain in the ass…

A/n: Okay, so the inspiration fairy really really touched me today. Or maybe it was just the caffeen. But either way, hope you enjoy! Two in one day! Go me. Does this buy me a ton of time before my next chapter? hm... Read and review.


	13. Side by Side and Suitcases

Chapter 13 - Side by Side and Suitcases

The three boys were laying in bed, curled around each other, two of the three were sound asleep, but the third had his eyes open, staring at the ceiling thinking. After a few minutes the man sat up and crawled out of the other's embrace and to the edge of the bed, he grabbed the cane left on the floor next to the bed. Slowly he quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

He quietly moved around his bed room, putting his clothes into a suit case, before picking up the phone and dialing the one place no one would expect him to go.

"Hello? Mom?"

-+-+-+-+-+-

He stretched lazily, his arm falling across Roger's body. Collins looked down upon the sleeping man, wondering what had led the poor man to the life he was now leading. He had had such a hard life, though not as bad as some, true. 

Roger stired, and slowly opened his eyes and looked at Collins. His eyes were glazed over with sleep still, he clearly hadn't all his senses yet. Collins grinned at him as Roger closed his eyes again and simply rolled over closer to Collins. Still gazing at the sleeping man Collins heard a noise in the main room. He ignored it, figuring it was just Joanne or Maureen plundering their food again. It didn't even register in his mind that Mark was gone. 

Finally Roger stretched lazily, and Collins just grinned at him and layed back staring at the ceiling. The two laid there under the covers, both mercilessly with out a hangover. Not wanting to break the silence, but wanting to talk none the less, Collins looked at Roger and asked something that he was curious about.

"How did you get over Mimi?"

Roger tensed slightly and glanced at Collins hestiantly. "Well... to be honest.." he trailed off. But he seemed to screw up his courage and just spit out the words in a rush "I got bored with being an angsty asshole."

Collins chuckled and rolled towards Roger but before he could say anything Roger continued. "Its not that I don't still love her and miss her.. but I missed everyone else too. And besides... I didn't want to be walled off from life anymore." Collins grinned at Roger and then suddenly kissed him. It wasn't a big kiss, just a peck really, on the lips before rolling on his back. Not to be out done, Roger figured he might as well go for it and mimmicked the other man. 

Laying side by side, with their arms barely touching the two stared at the ceiling. It was only a few moments before they both turned towards each other.

It wasn't long until the bed squeaked.

-+-+-+-+-+-

"Hey Rog! Wheres Mark?" Collins yelled out, Roger was still looking for the pants that he lost some how when they came in drunk. Collins was in the kitchen making some Captain Crunch, in only his boxers, when Roger entered the common room. 

"I dunno, is he in his room?"

"Nope."

"Damn. Oh well, I'm sure he'll be back." At that Roger went up to Collins and gently kissed him. Collins just leaned back against the counter and grinned, letting Roger do all the work. Roger slowly reached around Collins and grabbed a ceral bowl while keeping the kiss going. He slowly raised it, with Collins completely unaware, before steping back and grinning like a cheshire cat as he dumped the cereal no Collin's head.

"Pay back. Bitch."

Collins sputtered as Roger ran off.

-+-+-+-+- 

A/n: Its short, but since I got so many ideas and I didn't want to make it all fluff, I had to add on.


	14. Crayons and Death

Chapter 14 – Crayons and Death

"Its been a month since he left," Roger rightly felt no need to identify who "He" was. Collins would understand because that's all they had really talked about. They were both still avoiding a discussion on what exactly was going on between them. They were comfortable with what and where they were, and too much discussion would cause trouble, or so they believed subconsciously.

"Mark'll come back or at least call. He's a big boy, remember?" Collins spoke as much to reassure himself as to reassure Roger. Neither the philosopher or the song writer had informed Maureen or Joanne of Mark's disappearance, because as Collins so delicately put it "The only thing worse than two dykes in a murderous rage for loosing their mutual best friend is… there is nothing worse."

Roger whom was currently in the process of trying to make some eggs in a hot pot, the sole cooking element they had left since the hot plate broke six months ago, managed to spill water all over the power cord, releasing a shower of sparks. "Damn!" Roger carefully unplugged the hot pot and threw the whole thing in the trash, while Collins laughed at him, still sitting on the table.

Laughingly Collins told Roger, "Take heart Roger, if everyone was the brightest crayon in the box, we'd all go fuckin' blind." Roger pulled out a box of Captain Crunch and didn't even bother getting milk or a bowl, just started munching. He hopped up on the table next to Collins and offered him some.

They munched.

There was a knock on the door.

Not knowing who it could be Roger walked to the door and opened it. He found himself staring at one man he never expected to meet again. Mark's Father.

"Uh… Mr. Cohen? Hi… uh. Yeah." As if the 'hi' was invitation enough, Mark's father walked into the room, and prompty grabbed Roger by the shirt and slammed him into the wall. Holding Roger up, for Mr. Cohen was a bigger man than Roger, he grabbed Roger around the throat and murmured "listen you little fag, you killed my son."

Roger could barely breathe, but being Roger he just _had_ to make a smart as comment. "I'm only half fag… ugh! Uh, a complete fag is on the table!"

Collins just stared at Roger, not wanting to piss of Mr. Cohen anymore then he already was, for he had no idea what was going on, he pulled out a cigarette and held it out. With his best British accent, and it was quite laughable, said "Want a fag, Mate?"

Mr. Cohen didn't want the situation lightened up any, and he dropped Roger. Roger fell to his knees against the wall gasping for air. Mr. Cohen just looked at him, before kicking him in the stomach and walking to the center of the room. He barely paid attention to Collins, but just started addressing Roger. Collins carefully listened trying to figure out what was going on before taking any action.

"Your a little fucking fag. I knew you were trouble! And I told him, I told him to stay away from you, and I was right. Because of you he's dead! I hold you completely responsible… and I will have retribution." Roger gradually composed himself through out Mr. Cohen's speech, and all was silent for a moment as both Collins and Roger absorbed the words. Slowly, as realization dawned for Collins tears fell silently down his face. Collins sat upon the couch, unsure as to what to say. He just could not face it, Mark died.

Taking only slightly longer for the facts to hit home, Roger began to shake, not noticing Mr. Cohen anymore, just muffled in his grief like a blanket too heavy to move. Mr. Cohen watched them, witnessing their grief, but his heart was already frozen. Him and his son may never have gotten along, but family was family, and in his eyes Roger was nothing but the man who murdered his son.

Walking up to Roger again, Mr. Cohen kicked him in the ribs, and kneed him in the chin. Roger fell into a fetal position, acting on instinct, for consciously he could not bring himself to care what happened. Mark was gone, what else was there for Roger to care about? Not wanting to let things end Mr. Cohen grabbed Roger by the shirt and hauled him into a sitting position. Looking Roger straight in the eye, and coldly speaking in a low voice Mr. Cohen began to speak. "He died two days ago from a cold. A fuckin' cold! Do you know what his last words were? He wasn't even sane at that point, he was delirious, and coughing every five seconds. His last words were 'I love you.'" Pausing to catch his breath and making sure Roger was at least semi-paying attention, he continued. "'Roger.' His last words to anyone on this planet were 'I love you, Roger.'" He spit out the name like it was dirt. "He didn't even say goodbye to his mother for God's sake. Just you and some bastard named Collins, and you weren't even there."

Mr. Cohen finished with that last and stood up. With one last kick at Roger, he walked out the door. There might have been a tear coming out of Mr. Cohen's eye, but Collins was weeping in his own grief, and Roger was in too much shock for either to be able to recollect it clearly later on.

A/n: this story is almost done. One more chapter at most. I got more in the works, and this one is just getting a bit stale for me. Hope you've enjoyed it so far, and if not, well, opps. Keep an eye out for some of my new stuff that I'm working on, some will be done with a friend. Its all non-traditional and going to rock your socks... or at least mine.


End file.
